


Adrenaline Crash

by misslucy21



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: 03x09 Betrayal, Episode Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucy21/pseuds/misslucy21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They'd been back from the Sudan for three days, and Sam was still debriefing with the CIA. Which was a fact that G was somewhat thankful for at the moment, because he did not feel like having an audience for what was apparently the beginning of the mother of all adrenaline crashes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenaline Crash

G sank back against the wall and cradled his head in his hands. He'd been doing fine- honestly fine- until Deeks had ordered a burger that more closely resembled charcoal than ground beef and G had gotten a whiff of the charred flesh scent. Even then, he'd managed to get up and move casually to the rarely used back bathroom before throwing up what felt like everything he'd eaten in the past week. Now that G's body had decided that turning itself inside out was the appropriate response to his coworker's lunch selection, the fact that he'd been running on adrenaline since Hetty had called him with a message that a body resembling Sam had been found was rapidly catching up to him.

They'd been back from the Sudan for three days, and Sam was still debriefing with the CIA. Which was a fact that G was somewhat thankful for at the moment, because he did not feel like having an audience for what was apparently the beginning of the mother of all adrenaline crashes. His reserves were at an all time low, which made it all the worse. But he was going to have to get up off his ass here in the next minute or so, or someone was likely to notice he'd been gone awhile and come check on him. He took a deep breath and pulled himself up to standing, leaving heavily against the wall for a moment to make sure his stomach wasn't going to protest the change in altitude. It lurched a little, but settled quickly. He pushed off the wall, washed his hands, rinsed out his mouth and splashed a little water on his face. A quick look around to make sure the bathroom was in good shape, and he left the room and went back to his desk.

Deeks and Kensi had thankfully finished their lunches by the time he approached his desk and the charred smell had dissipated. But Kensi looked up at him and said, "You look like you got hit by a truck. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he said, and sat down, hoping that he could fake his way through the afternoon. An attempt to type in his password with hands that were now shaking disabused him of that notion, and he realized that this was not going to get better and it was not going to be put off. He decided to be smart, for once, and just give in. He stood up slowly and made his way to Hetty's office, feeling Kensi's eyes on him the entire way.

Hetty looked up and cocked her head at him as he approached her desk. "I don't feel too good," he admitted to her silent question.

"Yes, I can see that you are not well," Hetty agreed. "Go home. Rest. Are you taking the anti-malaria medication?"

"Yeah," G said. "There's still three days left."

Hetty nodded. "If you feel worse, you will call someone," she directed. "We did not have time to fully prepare you for this trip."

"I'm not really worried about it," G said. He wasn't going to tell her that he'd made sure he was up to date on all of his Africa vaccinations a couple months ago when he'd figured out what Sam was up to. Plus, there had been almost 48 hours between finding out that he was leaving and the time he'd left. That was just about enough time for the anti-malarials to kick in, so he'd been more protected than not. And, besides, he was pretty sure this was adrenaline and that he wasn't actually sick, but he also wasn't going to admit that out loud to Hetty.

"I know," Hetty said. "But someone has to be. Go rest," she said, waving her hands at him in dismissal.

"Thanks," he said and went back to his desk to get his bag.

"You going home?" Kensi asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Hold the fort."

"Of course," she said. "Are you ok to drive?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," G said. He did not want to subject his shaky stomach to Kensi's driving, even if he was sure she'd tone it down if she knew he was feeling sick.

"Ok," Kensi said. "If you need something, let me know, ok? Feel better."

"Yeah," Deeks agreed from across the room. "Get better."

"Thanks," he said, smiling a little at them both before leaving Ops.

He made the drive home on sheer willpower. Stumbling up his front walk, he managed to catch himself before he face-planted onto the front porch. He got the door unlocked and made it about three steps inside before he had to sit down on the floor. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but he eventually managed to stumble into the small bedroom he'd slept in as a kid. He stripped down to his shorts and burrowed into his bedroll where he laid, letting himself shake.

:::  
Some time later, he heard a key in the door and heard Sam call his name from the living room. He didn't respond, but Sam appeared in the doorway a moment later.

"I heard lunch was a bad idea," he said, sitting down on the floor near G's head.

"Would have been fine if Deeks didn't like his burgers extra-well done," G mumbled.

Sam hesitated, then said, "You identified Saleh's body," as though he hadn't been aware of it.

"Thought I was identifying yours," G said, closing his eyes and trying to beat back the gnawing panic he'd been suppressing since he'd gotten Hetty's call. It was pointless now that everything was all right. He shivered and hunkered down further under the covers.

"You running a fever?" Sam asked. G felt a strong hand on his forehead a second later.

"Don't think so," G said, despite Sam's temperature checking. "Just adrenaline, I think."

"Or you picked something up while you were over there," Sam said, before dropping his hand away. "You came pretty quickly, from what I hear."

"I was up to date on everything. Did that when I figured out what you were up to," he admitted, opening his eyes to look up at Sam.

"When was that?" Sam asked, surprised.

"That one weekend, this summer, after you'd talked to Nate," G said. "You were worried and you didn't want to leave me alone. If you'd just been going on a weekend trip, like you said, you probably would have cancelled. But you didn't, which meant it was work. Didn't take a lot to figure out that if you were on an op without me then it was probably in the Sudan."

Sam shook his head. "You weren't supposed to know."

"I know that," G said, irritably. "That would be why I didn't say anything about it."

Sam nodded. "Ok," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," G sighed.

"I know you wanted to just get out of there and I kept pushing it," Sam said.

G sighed again. "I understood why you wanted to keep going. I just…" he trailed off, not sure how to explain it.

"You'd just thought I was dead and then when I wasn't, you wanted to get me out of the dangerous situation as quickly as possible," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah," G agreed. He rubbed at his forehead, which was still throbbing with the headache that had started when he'd been throwing up.

"You ok?" Sam asked.

"No," G admitted. "Not really."

Sam frowned, and rested his hand against G's face again. "You're a little warm, but not that bad. But maybe we ought to take you in anyway."

G shook his head. "I don't think I'm sick. I think I'm just really, really tired." The adrenaline shakes had mostly faded, leaving him feeling a little weak and a lot exhausted.

"Ok," Sam said. "But if you get any warmer than that, we're going to the clinic," he added. "I'm not messing around with this if you're sick."

"Fine," G capitulated, closing his eyes again. He was honestly too tired to protest.

"You sure you don't want to sleep in the bed?" Sam asked after a moment. "You'd be more comfortable."

"You just don't want to sit on the floor anymore," G mumbled, not opening his eyes. He was actually plenty comfortable here, but Sam would never understand that he could be as comfortable in his bedroll as he was in the bed.

"Not especially," Sam said. "And I wouldn't object to a nap, either."

"All right," G said. He pushed himself upright and let Sam help drag him to his feet. He could feel Sam watching him closely as he staggered towards the main bedroom where the bed was, but Sam didn't try to steady him. He crawled under the covers and mumbled, "There, happy?"

"Very," Sam said. G could hear him taking off his shoes. "You want some aspirin or something for that headache?"

"No," G said, pushing his face into the pillow. The counter-pressure felt good. "Don't want to throw up again."

"Good point," Sam said. The bed dipped as he laid down next to G. G felt him squirm around to get comfortable, finally ending up on his side with a hand on G's back. "Wake me up when you do, ok?" he said.

"Yeah, ok," G mumbled as he finally let himself drop off to sleep.

:::  
When he woke up, it was mostly dark. Sam was sitting up on the side of the bed, which G realized was what had woke him.

"Time's it?" he asked, pushing up to stretch his back.

"About 6:30", Sam replied, looking over his shoulder as he stood up.

G flopped over onto his back and watched Sam flip on the floor lamp. "You going home?"

"No, I'm staying here tonight," Sam said. He came over and rested his hand against G's forehead again. "You're still warm."

"I'm fine," G sighed.

"How's your head?" Sam asked.

"Better," G said.

Sam nodded. "Your stomach still hurt?"

"Not really," G said.

"If you ate, would you keep it down?" Sam asked.

G thought for a moment, trying to ignore the little voice that constantly reminded him that if he didn't eat now then he might not get any later. Some days it was harder to ignore than others. "Yeah, I think so," he replied finally.

"Ok," Sam said. "I'm going to go get some food, then."

"All right," G yawned. He watched Sam put his shoes on and leave before he hauled himself out of the bed. He wandered back to the small bedroom where his clothes were and pulled his cell phone out of his discarded jeans. There was a text from Kensi asking if he was feeling better. He smiled slightly and sent her a message to say he was ok. Then he found sweats and a t-shirt and got dressed before going to the kitchen for a glass of water. He took the water and the phone back to the larger bedroom and settled back down on the bed because being upright was taking an inordinate amount of energy. He felt better than he had earlier, but he still felt extremely tired.

He woke up without even realizing he'd fallen asleep when he smelled Chinese food and found Sam standing by the bed and unwrapping a thermometer. "I'm fine," he protested.

"Humor me," Sam said. G sighed and let Sam tuck the end of the thermometer under his tongue. They waited for the beep, then Sam took the thermometer back. "98.4", he said.

"Told you," G said, sliding out of bed to sit on the floor with his back against the bed. "What'd you get?"

"For you, soup," Sam said, firmly. "And some ginger ale." He rifled through the bag of food and pulled out a container and a spoon, which he handed to G.

G opened the soup and took a sip. It was slightly gingery and obviously made with vegetable broth instead of chicken broth. It tasted good. He ate it slowly as Sam ate what looked like vegetable lo mein. He smiled a little, realizing that Sam hadn't gotten any food with meat in it because he didn't want to upset G's stomach again.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," G said. He finished his soup, drank some of the ginger ale and leaned his head back against the bed.

"Get back up into bed if you're going to fall asleep," Sam suggested.

"Mm." G said, but he pushed himself up and curled up in the bed to fall asleep again.

It was full dark when he woke up again, feeling drowsy and like he'd slept a long time. Sam was asleep next to him, but he woke up slightly as G stood up. "'sup?" he asked.

"Nothing," G said, softly. "Go back to sleep."

"Mm," Sam agreed.

G went to the bathroom and came back to bed. He checked his cell phone- it was almost 2 am. He wasn't sure when the last time was that he'd slept for almost 5 hours straight after having slept for an additional 2 hours or so prior to that, but he was sure it wasn't recently. And yet, he was still tired enough to lie back down next to Sam. He watched Sam sleep, resisting the urge to reach out and trace the tattoo on his arm. A lump grew in the back of his throat and he tried to swallow it down like he had multiple times over the past week. But the tears filling his eyes wouldn't disappear. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to take a deep breath and calm down, but his eyes overflowed and he felt the hot tears stream down his face.

"Hey, hey," he heard Sam said as his breath caught again on a sob. "It's ok, G. You're ok," Sam whispered as he cupped G's face in his hands.

"Sorry," he tried to say, but he could barely talk.

"No, no," Sam said gently. "Don't be sorry. Everything's fine," he said, pulling G close. G rested his head on Sam's shoulder and tried to breathe. "I'm safe. You're safe. We're fine," Sam soothed.

It only took another minute or so for G to pull himself together and push back to lie back down. "Ok?" Sam asked. He nodded. "I'll be right back, ok?" He nodded again.

Sam came back with a fresh glass of water, a box of tissues and a washcloth. "Here, let's check your temp again first," he said, picking up the thermometer. "You're warmer than you were."

"Because I was sleeping with both of us under the covers," G said, tiredly, sitting up. "And because you're paranoid about me being sick right now."

"G," Sam sighed.

"I'm going to humor you," G said, taking the thermometer and turning it on. "Because you've put up with a hell of a lot worse out of me. But I'm telling you, you're being paranoid."

Sam waited until G had the thermometer in his mouth, probably so G couldn't respond immediately. "You're not acting like you're ok, G. You actually went to Hetty and said you didn't feel good and went home without someone putting a gun to your head. You told me you weren't ok earlier and I don't think you've ever said that before. I don't think I've ever seen you sleep for 5 hours without drugs before, either. So, yeah, I'm a little concerned that you're coming down with something and if you are, it's probably not just a cold."

The thermometer beeped and Sam pulled it out of his mouth. "98.8", he said.

"Which is still normal," G pointed out, remembering being told at one point that anything under 99 degrees could be considered normal. "Look, I'm not saying I don't feel crappy. But I'm not feverish or achy. No chills. I wasn't nauseous at all before lunchtime and the soup was fine. Yes, my head hurts. Yes, I feel like I could sleep for a week. But…"

"But that could be jet lag and adrenaline," Sam finished.

"Yeah," G agreed. "I'm just tired, Sam. That's all. If I start feeling like I'm more than just tired, then I swear I will tell you."

"All right," Sam said. "I just worry. We all do."

"I know that," G said. "And I'm trying to not be annoyed about it." He didn't like people worrying about him. It made him nervous and he knew he had a tendency to get snappy when he was nervous. And Sam and the rest of the team didn't really deserve to get snapped at, at least not at the moment. He took the washcloth from Sam and wiped it over his face.

"You're doing good, G," Sam said quietly, handing him the glass of water.

G drank half the glass and set it down. "Thanks," he said. He knew Sam wouldn't tell him he was doing ok if he wasn't. Some days it was hard to just not walk away and disappear and Sam knew that. He took a deep breath as he realized that he might have had to figure out how to do this without Sam.

"Easy," Sam said, setting a hand on his shoulder. His face must have given something away. "I'm okay."

"I know," G said. He took another deep breath and tried to shove the panic away again. He was getting really tired of the fluttery feeling behind his chest. It had been there most of the summer, and he'd finally gotten rid of it when this whole thing had happened. He flopped backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"You're gonna hate it, but I think maybe you shouldn't go in tomorrow," Sam said, sitting down on the bed. "Today," he corrected, clearly realizing it was rather late. "Even if you're not sick, you're pretty worn out."

"Yeah," G sighed. He'd admitted to himself earlier today that he wasn't on his game and that could be dangerous. And an evening of sleep wasn't really enough to get him back to true. A day might not be enough either, but it would be a better start.

"You think you're up for now or do you want to try and sleep some more?" Sam asked.

"I don't want to move," G admitted. "But I don't know if I'll fall asleep again."

"That's fine," Sam said. "But I need another couple of hours."

"Go ahead," G said. "I don't think I'm going to be moving around much." Sam didn't sleep well when G rattled around the house. Some nights G couldn't help it, but he did try to stay in one spot as much as possible when Sam was asleep, particularly after the Toaster Incident the other summer.

"All right," Sam said, lying down on the other side of the bed. "If you fall asleep, do you want me to wake you up when I get up?"

G shook his head. "Just to say you're going."

"You gonna stay home, then?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," G said.

"Good," Sam said. "We can always call you if we really, really need you."

"Right," G said. "But I kinda hope you don't."

"I do too," Sam said. He settled back and closed his eyes.

G settled himself so he could watch Sam and stare up at the ceiling without needing to move much. It was safe to just let himself relax, he told himself, hoping to quell the fluttering in his chest. He was safe. Sam was safe. The rest of the team was safe. _All good_ , he told himself. Maybe if he said it enough times he'd believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, yeah, Sam's wife, I know. I've decided she and Sam must have some kind of agreement/open relationship where it comes to G.


End file.
